


Despair Children of the Corn Flakes

by Eve6262



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: >shamless plug, Komaru is 5, Other, but I also do commissions, children au, don't ask why I selected graphic depictions of violence, everyone but Komaru is 7, this was a request, you'll see during week two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-01-30 00:04:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12642015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eve6262/pseuds/Eve6262
Summary: the title has literally nothing to do with the story it's just the title of an Engine Wolf vid nglbut yes this was a request by I forget but I'll gift this to them so you'll knowthe request was really long but basically:everyone's seven except Komaru she's five (and obv his parents are older but you get it)Junk and Mukuro are in a park b/c reasons and Egg is like "o hey lonely"over the span of a descriptive two weeks he gets to know them and have them trust himthey move in with himand they also listed some psych effects that happen when children who got kicked out or whatever the original premise was (I kinda went off the deep end with the backstory) find a new family so I assume they want a desc of that....there might be a chap 4 but maybe not we'll seealso I misread the comment the whole five times I read it...they were supposed to be on the swings but they weren't. also it was supposed to be 4 weeks but like they also said it was supposed to be every time he saw them and not every damn day so I'm changing it to two weeks b/c I did that oops,,,I swear the only crack of this fic is the name of the chapters and work and this desc it's actually rlly srs





	1. Week 1 - Why is the Egg out at night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [doomqwer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/doomqwer/gifts).



Being outside at 8 PM was by no means normal for a boy his age, yet Makoto was quietly sitting in the park, watching his little sister play solemnly on the swings. They were specifically lowered due to the amount of little children, so the brunette had no need to push her during her journey; rather, he wished he could push his parents to stop working so late, so for once they could have dinner before the bell struck nine.

Glancing to his right, he paused for a moment. There were two girls, one strawberry blonde and one with hair black as the night sky above them, that simply sat there. One looked on with emotionless eyes; the other swung side to side while looking at a notepad, seemingly deep in thought.

Deciding they would at least make good conversation, whereas all Komaru wanted to talk about was school, he picked himself up and walked over to them. The black-haired girl was the first to notice and quickly elbowed her companion, causing her to look up. At the sight of an approaching figure she stowed the notepad in a backpack beside her and watched the inquisitive visitor.

“What are you guys doing here so late?” The black haired girl said nothing. The strawberry blonde, by contrast, almost seemed offended.

“What are you doing?” A fair question.

“My mom and dad work late, but we don’t have security cameras at home, so my parents thought it would be better if we stayed somewhere that’s usually lit.” It made a slight ounce of sense; the park was lit at all times by small, slightly dim spotlights turned up from the ground, and there were plenty of stores and a security camera trained on the park itself.

“That doesn’t make a lot of sense.” He still agreed.

“Yeah, but we don’t really have a choice.” Neither asked about the “we,” probably assuming the girl swinging was the other party. Rather, the strawberry blonde said nothing; the black-haired girl had been silent throughout.

“Hm.” Uninterested and uncaring, the girl brought back out her notepad and pen. Hoping they were just here on a fluke and clearly being shunned, Makoto hesitantly backed away, quickly turning his gaze to Komaru.

\--

It was the next day, and the girls were still there.

Somehow, it seemed even creepier than the day before. The backpacks they both sat beside them seemed almost untouched; perhaps it was habit, but it seemed too eerie to be true. The more talkative of the two sat with her legs up on the ledge; the other sat with her legs crossed and down. 

Komaru gave a nod to them, signaling he could go and she would be fine.

Makoto got up to talk to them, once again wondering what they were doing there.

As though this were yesterday, the black-haired girl once again nudged her compatriot. This time, the girl only put the notepad to the side, although she did close it. The cover was pink with white polka dots, Makoto noticed.

“You’re here again?”

The strawberry blonde only nodded.

“Do you want to be friends?”

No one answered. Makoto decided to ask a different question, as clearly they hadn’t a friend.

“Do you know what a friend is?”

The strawberry blonde nodded. Thankfully, at that; Makoto would have been hard pressed to give a concrete definition to the word “friend.”

“Well, do you want to be friends?”

Again, no answer. Almost as if they were ignoring him. Thinking for a moment, Makoto tried a different angle.

“What’s your name?”

Finally, she responded. She first pointed to herself, then her companion.

“Junko. Mukuro.”

Mukuro said nothing, only looking on with glazed eyes as always. Makoto wondered if that was what blind people were like, but he remembered his mother saying they were hypersensitive to sound and quickly dismissed the thought. 

Just as he was about to continue the conversation, he could hear honking from a car that sounded distinctly like his own. Running over, he joined Komaru in the backseat.

Looking out the back window, the girls made not a single move to get up, even as a suspicious man in a hoodie approached them.

\--

The third day, and here they were again. 

This time, rather than doodling in her notepad, Junko was brushing her neatly kept hair. In Mukuro’s lap was held the notepad her companion used so much, its girly pattern a contrast to her black motif. At this point used to Makoto wanting to talk to the girls, Komaru silently trotted over to the swings.

Mukuro once again poked Junko in the shoulder. She once again looked up, but this time did not stop her activity.

“Hey.”

Junko said nothing.

Makoto decided that if he couldn’t convince them to be friends, he could at least try to figure out who they were. He loved watching detective shows, after all; and what kind of junior detective would he be if he couldn’t solve this simple mystery?

“Why are you guys always together?” Admittedly he’d never seen them anywhere but there, but he assumed by the way Mukuro said nothing about Junko accidentally hitting her with the back of her brush on more than one occasion meant she was used to their life together.

No response.

“What’s your favorite color?” A random question, but a decent conversational topic nonetheless. If nothing else, he was optimistic; perhaps simply chatting with her enough would prompt sharing of information.

“Reddish pink.” Was the reply. He looked to Mukuro, but she only looked back with cold, almost dead eyes.

“I don’t like pink much. Komaru’s birthday parties are always super pink, I hate it.”

“That’s a shame. Pink is such an overused color, but by itself it’s very pretty.”

“You think?”

The conversation went on for a while, yet eventually the horn honked once more. Although they had a few questions for him, his parents were relatively okay with it; what harm would another seven-year-old do, after all?

\--

The fourth day of their meeting, and once again Makoto walked over to them. Komaru, this time, was getting bored with the swings, and while she still sat down on it, she doodled in her pocket notebook rather than swung.

The oddity about this time, as though the others weren’t strange enough, was that Junko noticed him first. Mukuro was busy doing something with a guarded object in her lap, her legs now drawn up to the ledge and covering whatever precious possession she now handled. By contrast, Junko’s legs were dangling on the side, and she gave a very slight smile as the boy leapt up to join them.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

Suddenly interested in conversation, or at least something to do other than doodle in her notepad, Junko asked a question.

“What’s your name?” Struck with realization, Makoto immediately corrected his mistake.

“Oh yeah, I never told you, did I? I’m Makoto Naegi.”

“Cool.”

Makoto motioned to Mukuro. “What’s she doing?”

Junko gave a shrug, although she did actually know. “Important stuff.”

Perhaps they still wouldn’t tell him much important, but at least they covered it up with “important stuff” and tried to change the topic rather than ignore him.

“Question.” Junko seemed to be looking a little past him rather than at him, but quickly turned her gaze back by the end of her statement.

“Yeah?”

“Favorite animal?”

“Probably...some kind of bird. Maybe a blue jay or robin.”

Junko giggled a little. “Your name kind of has ‘egg’ in it, so that makes sense.”

Both gave a laugh. Nothing visible came from Mukuro.

“Mine’s a cat, but only the really pretty ones. They’re super fluffy and warm and fashionable, and they remind me of Mukuro whenever they silently stare at you from the shadows.” Both gave a laugh at that, both a joke about cats and the girl’s companion.

The conversation about eggs, birds, and cats lasted a while, but soon enough a car honked its horn. His parents might have been worried, but if they were, Komaru was too busy chatting everyone’s ear off for them to voice it.

\--

The fifth day. Thursday of that week, since in some miracle they’d first appeared on a Sunday.

Komaru sat down on a bench and slept. She hadn’t gotten much sleep earlier, keeping herself up via the computer in her room, so she was getting that now.

Mukuro was once again the one looking forward. A slight nudge to her companion, and Junko smiled, stopping herself from doodling on her notepad once more. If it was anything, Mukuro seemed to be somewhat loosening up to him; at least, her eyes were softer than before. 

“Hey!” Junko smiled widely, her joy evident.

“Hey!” Makoto smiled back.

Junko immediately launched into her newly formed idea. “Okay, sooo….It’s obvious you want to know more about us. I got that much. So I’ll make a deal, ‘kay?” 

Without hesitation, Makoto replied. “Of course! What’s the deal?”

“In exchange for more info about us...You can’t betray us! Got it?” A little confused by his end of the deal, Makoto questioned the why rather than the what.

“Betray you? Why would I betray you?”

Finally, the black-haired girl let out a small mutter. “If you have no reason to betray us, then there’s no reason to say no.”

Makoto was stunned, but Junko seemed almost expectant of that. Finally, after his shock wore off, he spoke.

“Yeah, I accept. I was just confused as to why you said no betrayal of all things. I thought you’d want food or something.”

Shrugging, Junko replied. “Nah, we’re good on food. But, since you wanted info...Oh! Why we’re always together, right?”

Excited for answers, Makoto nodded.

“Well, that’s obvious! It’s not obvious, butttt we’re sisters! Practically twins at that!”

Taken aback, Makoto looked the two over. Aside from their hair, they looked practically identical, he could admit. The only difference was their posture; where Junko was relaxed but still straight, Mukuro sat as though a soldier in line during training.

“How did I never notice that?”

Junko giggled. “No one ever really notices until we point it out. I don’t know how.”

“I don’t either.”

Mukuro, having been watching the two for the past few exchanges, finally looked back forward at some unknown source of interest. 

“So, how was your day?”

“As normal as life gets, to be honest. I…’

\--

Day six. A Friday.

Junko yawned against her sister, leaning heavily on her sister. Her counterpart stood rigid still, even as Junko curled up against her, clearly used to using her sister as a sort of bed.

Jumping up on the ledge, Makoto questioned her.

“You’re sleeping?”

Junko gave a nod. “Tired. Gonna take a nap. Try to not be so boring, sis~.”

With that, she gave one final yawn and closed her eyes, clearly having fallen asleep.

For a while, Makoto was quiet. Eventually, however, he found words.

“Why don’t you talk?”

No response.

“Don’t you want to say anything?”

“No.”

Even getting a response was surprising. Mukuro continued after a pause.

“I don’t want to talk. That’s all there is to it.”

“...Oh.”

The two stayed in admittedly complacent silence, waiting for the inevitable green sedan to roll over to the park entrance.

\--

The end of an entire week, and Makoto still felt as though he only knew surface information about these girls.

Sure, he knew they were sisters, but that wasn’t particularly new or revolutionary information. Two girls being sisters rather than extremely close friends was nothing to a random seven year old.

Sure, he knew Junko was the more talkative of the two, but that wasn’t hard to figure out, even from their first meeting.

Sure, he knew they stayed there all the time, but that was more than a bit obvious.

And sure, he knew their names, but not only was it simply their first names (hence nothing to stalk them with or the like), they could have easily been lying.

Makoto wanted to trust them, though, so he assumed all information (if not utterly sarcastic, of course) was true at face value.

So as he sat on the ledge once more, rather than pestering them about things they’d already said or trying to drag information out of them, he decided they’d be better telling him these things on their own.

“Hey!”

“Yo! Makoto!” Junko smiled. Today, her hair was sorted into small, but very fitting strawberry blonde pigtails. Small stars accented both ties, and immediately Makoto questioned them.

“I like your hair.” The girl giggled.

“Ooh, you noticed! I got these the other day since they were super cheap and I wanted to style a bit. I was gonna give some to Mukuro, but her hair’s too short.”

“Fair, I think she’d look nice with a side ponytail.”

“I know, right? It’s look so nice! Mature but innocent, which is really Mukuro in a nutshell.”

The conversation went on and on, Makoto learning new things about the girls practically every second; Junko’s favorite hairstyle was twin pigtails, Mukuro liked action comics while Junko liked romance, Mukuro’s favorite color was either black or blue depending on the time of day, and so much more.

And by the end, when the green sedan rolled around the corner and honked again, Makoto found himself wishing it hadn’t.


	2. Week 2 - An Awfully Despair-Inducing Event

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> gun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sHE BACK

The beginning of a new week, and Makoto felt so conflicted.

On one hand, he knew so much about these girls. He knew what people would consider very random but important facts- favorite color, animals, even brands with how much Junko liked talking fashion. 

On the other hand, he had so little of the story. There was a larger picture here, both him and Komaru were sure, but alas, the sea was covered still.

It felt like looking into a black sea of oil; it was so obvious, the corruption, but where it started and when it ended were obscured from vision. There were details, one thinks, but by the moment they changed, everything warping in all’s memory and actions. He could see the reflection of the light on the oil, of course, and he could see the water on the outside, and while some others wouldn’t see those immediately, those were unimportant.

Still, he steeled himself and went diving once again.

This time, the sea reciprocated.

“Makoto~! Remember the deal?”

“Yeah?”

“Time for more details~!”

Without waiting for his response, Junko kept talking.

“You probably want to know why such young kids are outside without parents all the time, right? Well, we don’t have parents….Kinda.”

Makoto tilted his head, brows scrunching unconsciously.

“Basically, a bunch of stuff happened- I’d say but it’s not a good idea and you wouldn’t want to hear it- and our parents died, but we couldn’t go to the cops- again, not a good idea- so we ran.”

“Your parents died!?”

Junko only gave a somewhat emotionless nod. She didn’t seem particularly worried about it; Mukuro simply kept her eyes trained ahead. 

“I...I’m sorry I never…”

“Nah, it’s okay! I hated them anyways.”

“Wait, what? But they’re family.”

“So? People just say ‘they’re family,’ but they never give you a reason to love them other than ‘you share blood with them.’ It doesn’t make sense, and if that’s true, I don’t have to follow it, right?”

“I...guess.” It was confusing, but on some primal level his understanding clicked. The rest of him ignored it, decided it was pointless considering it, but it stayed persistent.

_ They’re the killers, _ it said.

_ Shut up _ , he said.  _ I will trust them, no matter what _ , he said.

“Well...I suppose we should talk about something else, since it’s not a good idea to talk about it, right?”

A happy hum came from his conversational partner.

\--

The next day their parents took off for a family hangout.

Makoto felt terrible. He felt like he’d betrayed the twins; now he understood why their only requirement was two-way trust. 

They had no one else, and now their only other companion in life had vanished.

Thankfully, he thought, it was only a day.

His parents, thankfully, were too busy dealing with Komaru to notice.

He liked it better that way.

 

\--

The moment they arrived at the park, Makoto sprinted toward the girls. Mukuro only just notified her sister before he leapt onto the ledge.

“Sorry I wasn’t here yesterday, parents wanted to surprise us with a family thing. I would’ve told you, trust me.”

After a moment of surprise, Junko responded.

“Oh. No, that’s okay! I trust you. Especially now.”

Makoto only cocked his head. He may have finally understood, but his learning curve was a bit slow.

“You actually came back rather than used that as an out. No way you’re lying.”

That, he understood. As he settled onto the stone ledge, having been poised in anticipation, Junko continued.

“I might as well tell you more about Mukuro, then. One of the reasons our parents died was her kidnapping- specifically by Fenrir. They’re an underground militia group that abducts children to use as lifelong soldiers. That’s the tattoo on her hand.”

Makoto looked. A wolf in a spiked circle; the emblem was logical if nothing else.

“Anyways, apparently she was the top of everyone, even the seasoned veterans. She fought a lot; she said she even fought half an army herself when everyone else died. But that also meant she was easily able to sneak away, so she did. And she came back.”

Makoto felt bile rising in his throat; a stone formed in his stomach.

“Fenrir is not the most...forgiving of groups, though. They tried to take her back, and in the process killed our parents. Not because they tried to protect her, thought; now they knew the name of a single Fenrir member, and now they had to die. They thought, anyways. They were actually super willing to just give them Mukuro, which was stupid, and let them go on their way. Good riddance, I say.”

The premonition came true, but with its newfound attunement with reality the burden on his body only grew.

“Our parents always triple-locked our room from the outside, and Mukuro stashed all her heavy-duty weapons outside as well, since our parents always checked the room at night. She still had a knife, but cutting through anything to let us out would’ve been too risky. Instead she let them come in, then took them both out.”

“We had nowhere to go but somewhere with cameras; Fenrir can’t be seen or heard of, even thought about.”

As an afterthought, Junko added on to her statements.

“Oh, but you’re not in danger of anything. Sis would’ve said something if Fenrir was in the area at the moment, and they’re not like some super big control-the-world organization, so they won’t use this security camera footage. You’re safe as far as Fenrir is concerned. Not like we can save you from a random car crash, but at least there’s not a world-famous militia organization coming from you.”

Most would have, at this point, tried to calm Makoto down. There was no need, nor want to from Makoto, however; instead, there was a certain understanding. He couldn’t quite empathize, but could certainly understand the pain and fear Mukuro must have gone through; Junko, he felt, had simply resigned herself to clouds, using said clouds and insanity as a grounds not to fall into madness.

“Anyways, what’s on your mind right now?”

\--

Wednesday came and went. Their parents seemed on edge; no one could figure out why. 

\--

Thursday came and went. Their parents seemed relaxed now. Neither child understood a thing; the twins could offer nothing, their experience more than limited.

\--

Friday the family went to a diner in celebration of their father’s raise. They understood what happened now.

\--

Saturday came. Makoto quickly informed the twins of their previous whereabouts, and the outcome of this remarkably overplayed series of events.

As the two laughed about their previous worry, Mukuro’s head twitched. Slightly, and to the side, but it twitched.

Neither had to be told to be on their guard.

After a few moments, Junko opened her mouth to speak.

Before she could, Mukuro leapt off the ledge with astonishing skill. A flash of black was all Makoto could see from her hand before she pointed it at...Komaru?

The moment he looked to his sister, understanding bloomed on his features.

A man stood, frozen in place, unsuspecting of a gun being pulled on him. 

Finally, Makoto understood why Mukuro never wanted to talk.

Talking was danger to her. Talking was loud; footsteps were quiet.

She was no tiger lying in wait to kill them all. She was a tiger, yes, but a tiger waiting for attackers to pounce on unknowing prey; only then would she lash out with sharp claws and a deadly jaw.

The man hissed. “What the HELL is a Fenrir doing here?”

“I’m not with Fenrir anymore.”

The sound of the green sedan moving slowly on asphalt scared both Junko and Makoto. Looking to the side, their parents were here.

Their faces were in shock.

Suddenly, Makoto realized something. Jumping over the ledge, he sprinted to the now opening doors of the sedan.

They weren’t going to chase off the man. No, the logical conclusion was much more; the logical conclusion was that the creepy girls that sat the ledge were waiting for people to kill.

That was an adult’s conclusion, anyways; a little girl with a gun and hardened features meant danger to them. 

Not him, though.

So he ran to them, making sure to bump into his mother as he went for his father.

The man chuckled. Then, making sure to back away, he yelled: “This girl’s crazy! Help!”

He pretended to run. His father grabbed the black-haired girl’s arm.

The man came for Makoto’s sister.

In that moment, time seemed to slow. The cool breeze of summer breathed down his neck as though the man was behind him, his hand on his own shoulder. Pale, tinted light from above no longer seemed such a hindrance; details were clearer than the night sky above. He could see the man grabbing his sister’s arm, his mother’s fear when the man ran back; could see Junko leaping off the ledge for some unknown reason; he could see both Mukuro’s fear and resolve.

She forced her hand up, trained strength greater than even a grown, adult male.

Mukuro shot. 

The man fell. His spinal cord was hit. Whether it was instantaneous or not, he would be paralyzed. That in itself stopped him in his tracks as he crumpled to the ground, an agonized yelp stopped halfway through. Her mother’s choked scream reverberated in his head; the blood pouring out from the wound made his stomach swirl. His head was swirling, too; now everything felt a blur, from being pushed toward the car to Junko’s crazed movement.

He had to get a grip, he thought. He said he wouldn’t betray them, he thought. Like they had.

His mind cleared with that statement alone; now he could resist his mother’s pushy arms, ran past them and to the girls. He could hear Junko’s words, now; “Don’t report us to the police,  _ please _ , I don’t care if you kill us.”

His dad had other plans. His phone was out, his hand moving to call the number.

Mukuro stood on lookout. She dodged as he ran past. To his mother, it was a sign of sociopathy; to him, it was a sign of trust. Of allowing him to help her sister in their time of need.

He grabbed his father’s arm as hard as he could and down the phone fell, onto the pavement. It wasn’t far, but it was far enough; within a moment’s notice Junko grabbed it, ending the call with no time to spare. His father looked to him.

He hoped this wouldn’t happen. He had nothing to say, nothing to defend his actions with. He could plead, could beg, but that would get him in trouble.

But, he thought with a start, that would save these girls.

“Dad,  _ please. _ They were only protecting Komaru.”

“Oh really? With a GUN?”

“What were you going to do? Let her get taken away while you blame them? Let her get taken away by some creep from an alley while a trained soldier gets arrested for nothing?”

“Trained soldier?”

“Yes! Meaning she couldn’t have missed!”

His dad huffed, his eyes narrowing.

“And? We could’ve called the police. They could’ve handled this much better than shooting a man in the street in the middle of the night.

“No they couldn’t.” The feminine voice surprised them both.

“And you, little miss. Where are your parents?”

“Don’t change the subject. The police couldn’t have done a better job.”

“Oh? And how do you know?”

“They recognized Sis’s tattoo.”

“And? What does that have to do with anything?”

“The only ones who know about that emblem are either members themselves, meaning highly trained soldiers designed for mercenary jobs, or people from opposing or allied groups, which also means highly trained soldiers designed for merc jobs. Either way, somebody the police couldn’t track down if they used NASA-quality computers.”

“As if a child could know something so valuable. Where are your parents?”

“It’s kind of-”

“WHERE are your parents?”

“Dead.”

“Oh? Then why aren’t you in the government's care?”

“The government is the first place they’d look for ex-F-the group in, and the last place they’d find them.”

“Please. If you’re telling the truth, the FBI-”

“Is terrible at their job. Sis has executed at least fifteen people in the Witness Protection Program, and has the evidence to back it up.”

“Like who?”

“Jessica Iris Attlee. You saw her death on national television, and that was only because of the icebreaker. There are countless more. The Witness Protection Program is only useful to keep people from small fry; anyone slightly larger and they’re dead meat.

“...Why would I trust a  _ child _ to know this?”

As suspicious as his words were, Makoto could tell his father believed the girl. It was, Junko once explained, an odd ability of hers; an ability to convince people with just words and a look. She was manipulative to the core, and her abilities reflected that; in this scenario, for example, she had fifty plans going at once. All of them, however, relied on this man believing her.

“Because they abduct children to train. Sis, being the best of even the old kids, escaped and came back. She told me everything.”

The man looked to the girl he’d quickly abandoned. Her eyes darted around, yet it seemed calm and calculated; her hands laid limp at her sides, yet her gaze and demeanor spoke otherwise. She was cold and calculating to the naked eye and brief moment; exactly what one expects of the perfect soldier.

“Okay, well what do you think we should do then, little miss?”

“Hmm. Well, for starters, they’re gonna want Komaru. If they went after her once and failed, it’s likely they’d go after her again. Leave no living recruit behind.

“Recruit? I’d hope she didn’t sign up for some weird training like that.”

“Of course not. They’re confident enough in their abilities that they call targets ‘recruits’ before they even know they’re targeted.”

“Alright. Fine. Let’s assume my daughter is, for some reason, wanted by some criminal soldier training...thing. What do you  _ want  _ me to do about it?”

At this, Junko was silent. Her brain was fried from thought; in any other scenario, her and Mukuro would have already fled. But this was Makoto; no matter what, she wanted to keep their friend around and about.

Makoto spoke up once again, an idea forming from strands of ideas.

“Mukuro can protect her, right?”

“Yep. She has better honed instincts than any group that goes for her.”

“Then what if you guys stayed with us?”

“That’d work. They wouldn’t take her from a government-operated building or service- they don’t want to be noticed by government personnel for any reason- and transit in busy street hours is too risky for most of their tastes.”

“I...Fine. Fine, you can stay with us, on one condition.

“Which is?”

“Make your own money. We can’t afford two more children.”

Junko seemed to hesitate. Mukuro, now heading back, sheathed her gun with a distinct click.

“Done. If I have a safe place of residence to defend, taking jobs is no problem.”

Makoto remembered a distinct conversation in which Junko expressed her sister’s distaste for such jobs.

“....Alright. They can move in.”

And so started the tale of four siblings; pairs related by blood, now joined in friendship and survival. As the days passed, the adults quickly warmed up to the two newcomers; whether it was Junko’s absolutely addictive personality or simply the cash Mukuro brought in, Makoto both didn’t know and didn’t care to think about.

-END-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to die  
> for multiple reasons
> 
> I don't know where I was going with that
> 
> bye
> 
> ~Eve6262


End file.
